


Fuzzy Vengeance

by ohgodmyeyes



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bearded Anakin Skywalker, Crack, Crack Relationships, F/M, Fluff, Humour, Nonsense, Revenge, Revenge Humour, Why?, relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-22 18:47:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22188055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohgodmyeyes/pseuds/ohgodmyeyes
Summary: Padmé demonstrates an uncharacteristic lapse in judgement, and this leaves Anakin feeling very upset with her.Luckily, he has a plan.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 41
Kudos: 101





	1. Chapter 1

Anakin had just finished a training session with Obi-Wan, and the two were sitting in the cool calm of a lovely evening. They were in hiding together, on a remote planet— along with Anakin’s wife, and the two young children he shared with her. They’d all been here a while, now. It was a nice planet, and sometimes it almost felt like ‘home’.

It was so beautiful that it ought to have felt that way right now, but it didn’t. At least, not to Anakin: He was deep in thought. 

“Obi-Wan?”

“Yes? What is it, Anakin?” The elder of the two Jedi could feel the energy coming from his best friend and comrade. It was unfocused; jittery— nearly angry. He waited, patiently, to be told what was the matter.

He did not need to wait long. “I’ve... come to a decision,” said his young charge.

A decision? “What sort of a decision? You know we can’t afford to take anything lightly, these days.” One false step, and they could all fall into the Empire’s clutches.

“I know we can’t. That’s why I’ve considered this carefully.”

Obi-Wan trusted Anakin. “Tell me, then— what is it you’ve decided?”

Anakin took a very deep breath. “I’m... going to grow a beard, Obi-Wan.”

 _Oh no._ “...Anakin,” Obi-Wan began very carefully, “I would be lying if I told you I wasn’t flattered, but...”

“No, no— you don’t understand.” He admired his friend’s appearance, to be sure, but that was not the reason Anakin had made this choice.

“What do you mean?” Obi-Wan felt confused— very confused. He had seen his former apprentice with a beard, and... well...

“It’s for Padmé.”

“For Padmé?”

“Yes.”

Again venturing very carefully so as to preserve the younger man’s feelings, “Did your wife... _ask_ you to do this, Anakin?”

“No... no, she didn’t ask.”

“Then perhaps you should...”

“No!” Anakin turned his head to look at his friend; almost snarled, “This is something I have to do.”

Taken slightly aback, Obi-Wan asked, “ _Why_?”

As he looked back out at the landscape, “Because she betrayed me.”

“Anakin, vengeance is not in the spirit of...”

“—You don’t understand the egregiousness of her transgression.”

“What did she _do_?” Obi-Wan felt relieved Anakin seemed to understand that his beard was hideous. But why was he so intent on imposing it on poor Padmé? She loved him, after all. She couldn’t have done anything to deserve what her husband was considering right now.

“She took me to the beach.”

“...The beach?”

“Yes. _The beach._ Do you remember the evening you watched the twins for us? When she said she had a... _’special night’_ planned?” Anakin shuddered at the memory. “It ended... on the _beach_.”

“Perhaps she was trying—”

“ _She should have known better!_ ”

“I’m sure she didn’t mean anything by it, Anakin.”

“Even if she didn’t...” He narrowed his eyes threateningly at the scenery. “Even if she didn’t, she needs to be made to understand.”

“I don’t think this will prove effective in solving your marital discord. Have you thought about talking to her instead?” Obi-Wan wanted no part in this, but still felt compelled to offer his advice. If he could spare Padmé her husband’s bearded wrath...

“Do you know how many times I’ve talked to her about sand?”

Obi-Wan sighed. “I can imagine the number is not small,” he admitted.

“So I’ll grow a beard, then,” Anakin reiterated, as he closed his eyes and appeared to regain his lost sense of calm.

“....Whatever you think is best, friend,” said Obi-Wan sedately, as he resigned himself to thinking of how he might warn Padmé about Anakin’s plan before she would next have to see him.

She had been away for a couple of days with the children, exploring the natural beauty of the planet with them. She would be gone another few, Obi-Wan knew— just long enough for her husband to sprout the beginnings of the revenge he intended to take on her for her thoughtlessness. He dreaded the idea of her having to endure such retaliation.

In Anakin’s mind, however, she more than deserved it.


	2. Chapter 2

“...Ani?” Padmé pushed open the door to her home, and called for her husband. She had just returned from camping with the children. The two toddlers were still out in the yard with Obi-Wan, so their mother was by herself right now.

The house was very dark. She looked around nervously for Anakin.

Suddenly: “Welcome home, my love,” from somewhere in the inky blackness.

Padmé tried to spot him, but she couldn’t. She began, “Anakin, is it true?” She hadn’t believed what Obi-Wan had said; had rushed into the house immediately so she could see for herself.

“Is what true?”

She still could not see him, but she knew he was close. “Obi-Wan said you’d... _done something_ while I was gone.”

“Oh?”

“He said it was something... _terrible._ ” She squinted; tried to will her eyes to adjust to the low light.

“...Did you believe him?”

“Well... I _didn’t_...” She was beginning to feel frustrated at not being able to so much as glimpse her husband. She sighed; pleaded in her growing exasperation, “...Ani, will you please come out of the dark?”

“Alright,” he answered calmly. And with a twist of his arm, bright light bathed the room.

The staccato shriek which escaped Padmé, then, at the sight of his face reverberated through the house— it even made its way out into the yard. 

Obi-Wan, in the midst of entertaining the twins, simply shook his head and whispered under his breath, _”Anakin...”_

Back inside the house, however, Padmé was more appropriately distraught. 

“Oh no! _Ani!_ How could you do this?”

Baring his teeth in a smile which somehow seemed both aggressive and irreverent, “I thought it would be... _special_.”

Padmé did not know what to say. What was this? Why was he doing it? Surely he understood that the patchy nest of yellow steel-wool he’d let emerge from his chin was not in anyone’s best interest...?

Had he not considered the poor children?

“Ani,” she reasoned. “You’re a _good person._ Why don’t you come out to the washbasin with me, and...”

“No, Padmé! No! This is what I want, now.”

“But Anakin...”

Anakin had already made up his mind, however. He was going to keep his awful beard, until Padmé apologized— _unprompted_ — for taking him to that beach.

She would soon find that his characteristic wrath, although now being expressed through the hair on his face, was still as furious as it had ever been.

...And of course, this meant that for days which eventually turned into weeks, the beard stayed.

It stayed... and it _grew._

It grew more and more, until it began to look almost wild— and after Anakin had popped up with intentional suddenness to alarm her with it for what felt like the thousandth time, Padmé decided that she’d had enough. As she was preparing a meal in their home one evening, she found herself in the midst of pleading with him yet again:

“Anakin... _please_.”

“No.” He stood behind her, his gaze focused out a window. They were facing away from each other, still not having addressed the beach incident.

“Ani, you have to know that your beard is...”

He did not turn to look at her as he interrupted, “—Believe me— _I know it is_.” The beard was a lot of things, really, but attractive was not one of them, and everyone knew it.

Having grown angry by this point, Padmé spun around and shouted, “Then _WHY_?” He looked at her finally; she gestured at his face and continued, “Why are you doing this to me? _To us?_ Obi-Wan can fashion you a new blade to shave with— _he wants to help!_ ”

At this, a faint call from outside: “I’ve already made one! _Please, Anakin!_ ” He hadn’t wanted to get involved, but Obi-Wan could scarcely take any more of this torture, either.

He had to look at it too, after all— and although the beard was meant for Padmé, Obi-Wan had not escaped its ire. 

He couldn’t. 

No one could.

Anakin glared at his wife; ignored his friend’s plea. “He doesn’t understand— he couldn’t. _You know what you did._ ”

“No, I don’t! If I did, don’t you think I’d apologize for it?” Anakin had always been moody, but this passive-aggressive beard of his was a whole new phenomenon. She had no idea what she could possibly have done to prompt it, but she would have done anything to make it stop.

“You _really_ don’t know?” He’d never have admitted it, but even Anakin was growing tired of his own plot. It hurt him that his own wife could have been so thoughtless about his long-standing aversion to sand... but, he did miss being on good terms with her. 

Besides that, his face was _so itchy._

“No, Ani!” Padmé was nearly in tears. “I have no idea! _Please._ ”

He paused; thought for a few long moments— and fingered his beard gingerly. He’d scared his wife with it, now, countless times: Whether she’d been cooking, bathing, gathering wood, or simply caring for the children, he and his newly-terrifying visage had been there to shock her. It worked every time, and had come to feel almost routine. 

_She’s your **wife** , Anakin!_

Obi-Wan’s words played themselves over in his mind, now. He, too, had attempted to reason with his friend about his ‘new look’, but it had been futile. Anakin had never been reasonable. 

The one thing Anakin was more than he was unreasonable, however, was in love with his wife.

After a very deep breath, “It was the beach, Padmé.”

“What?”

He turned away from her again, now. _”The beach!”_

Realization crept, slowly, through Padmé’s mind; made its way onto her expression. Suddenly, she understood. “Oh, Anakin...” She stepped forward to touch his shoulder from behind. He looked back at her, and somehow, she suppressed her visceral reaction to the sight of him long enough to continue, “I’m so, so sorry, Ani... I just thought it was beautiful there, and I didn’t think...”

Anakin whispered gravely, “It was _awful_.”

“Is that why you didn’t speak to me on the way home?”

“There was sand _everywhere_.”

Padmé sighed. How could she not have realized? She’d simply hoped they could enjoy the water together— without having even considered the sand.

He had turned toward her again, and so she tried to touch his face, but the beard acted almost like a forcefield: She could not will her hand to go near it. As she settled on placing her palm atop his chest instead, she repeated softly, “I’m sorry, Ani,” as she stared up at him pleadingly.

Anakin looked at her, too, as he considered both the itching on his face, and the intimacy with his wife that his facial hair had recently cost him. Even if it _had_ been satisfying to startle her with it, he missed the way things used to be. 

He missed _her._

Perhaps, he thought, he had made his point.

He ventured, “...Do you promise not to forget again...?” 

Emphatically, “I _promise_ , Anakin!” Padmé meant this. Aside from her love for him, what he’d done to his face had simply been too much for her to bear. She would have plucked every last grain of that infernal sand from off the planet and flung it into a black hole herself, if it meant she would not need to endure that beard again.

“Alright, Padmé. I’ll get rid of it, then,” Anakin conceded, as he finally put his arms around her and held her tightly.

For the first time in weeks, Padmé breathed a sigh of relief. _”Thank you, Ani.”_

As he would normally have done following an argument, Anakin looked at his wife, and then leaned down to kiss her.

To Padmé, It was like kissing a curly, balding porcupine.

She pulled away, and smiled as kindly as she could, “I love you, Anakin... but...”

He had been so happy to forgive her that he’d nearly forgotten about the state in which he’d left himself. “...Yes,” he said, smiling back. “Yes, you’re right. I’ll go outside and see Obi-Wan, now,” knowing his friend would also be happy to witness the merciful death of the beard he’d grown in his fury.

As he walked out into the yard, however, he paused to stroke it— stroke it, and think.

His warm smile turned small and coy as he registered the sheer _power_ held by the insipid little hairs he had the ability to conjure. 

Maybe he’d had to abandon the lure of the Dark Side... but now, he realized, he had a different kind of tool which he could use to bend others to his will.

Anakin would let Obi-Wan rid him of his excess hair that day, but the young Jedi would also decide to keep the idea of it tucked away in his back pocket for future use. Its horror, after all, was more poignant than that of anything even the darkest Sith Lord could ever generate.

He would not have said so, but Anakin Skywalker had revelled in the power wrought by his terrifying beard.

From that point forward, he would live a happy life with his family. However— the odd, patchy spectre of his fuzzy vengeance would forever loom in the background of their existence.

And they _never_ went to the beach again.


End file.
